


Up, Up, Down, Down...

by burbear



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Wreck-It Ralph (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes is Bad at Feelings, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, They get better though, Tony Stark is bad at feelings, a few sad moments but don't worry, ask me about wreck-it ralph lore, hulk knows all of his lines, it's a kid's movie how sad can it be, it's also hulk's favorite movie for obvious reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burbear/pseuds/burbear
Summary: Tony has just about had it with Loki and magic, seriously. Being transported into a kid's movie? How is this even a kid's movie? And no offense, Thor, magic hammers are not that great. Oh, and to top it all off, he's dressed in ridiculous blue outfit like some kind of retro handyman while his crush gets a badass cyber-suit.God, he hates magic.





	Up, Up, Down, Down...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monobuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monobuu/gifts).



> alternate title is "hey baby, what's your cheat code?"
> 
> hope you like it, monobuu! i saw your movie prompt and got inspired damn near immediately. of course, because i have no self-control, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be. it's also unbeta'd, so any errors found are mine. please don't point them out, though, i'm going to fix them in the next day or so, by which time this sentence will be gone from my notes.
> 
> thank you to [potrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix) for being incredibly understanding, and a big thanks to [writerly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerly/pseuds/Writerly) for being my pegasus, you're the best, bro.
> 
> Prompt: _A sorcerer throws the entire Avengers team into a Disney movie - whichever one you want. They become the characters and have to see the story to its end in order to escape, but being hardass superheroes, no one has seen this particular movie. Except [you choose which character], who not only knows how the plot is supposed to go, but has a very cunning plan to get around much of it in a shortcut - which may or may not end poorly for our entire team. I think it'd be funny if Tony and Bucky were the prince and princess, or whichever romantic pairing the movie has. The entire time, teammates are asking, "Wait, why am I doing this?" and the one who is guiding them is like, "BECAUSE this has to happen, and then this, just play your part!"_

**  
**“Ugh,” Tony groans, his palms pressing into his eyes. His kingdom for a cup of coffee. Seriously, why is he even awake this early. **  
**

“Calm down, Stark, here you go—whoa, hey, almost lost my other hand there.”

“Buck, come on.”

“It’s a joke, Stevie, relax.”

Ah yes. That, right there, is why he’s awake this early. “You’re my favorite,” Tony tells Bucky.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Bucky replies. The super twosome remind him to eat something before they leave for their run, and, like an idiot, Tony says he will, because he hasn’t had enough coffee yet and because Bucky Barnes being in the same room as him is a detriment to his decision making.

Oh well. Chocolate-covered espresso beans count as something to eat.

Tony may have sort of probably developed a crush—fine, rediscovered a crush on Bucky Barnes, his favorite Howling Commando as a kid and favorite supersoldier now. He can’t be blamed for it, really. The man ticks off all the boxes on Definitely Tony’s Type™: kind, loyal, terrifyingly competent, has a murder strut, and absolutely gorgeous to boot.

The point is Tony keeps an eye out for him a little more than he does for the others. Naturally, this applies even more to any villain who has ever dabbled in mind control.

It must be Tony’s lucky day when none other than Loki shows up in Midtown Manhattan, a flurry of mayhem following him as always. The team is quickly called to assemble.

The suit wraps itself around Tony’s body, the final pieces slipping into place as he takes off, blasting himself into the air. By now all of this feels like second nature—find target, evade attacks, divide and conquer, yadda yadda, smack a pair of high-tech ‘magic’ bracelets on whichever poor bastard decided it was their day to shine. 

At least it’s only Loki and not a team-up. Good thing F.R.I.D.A.Y. doesn’t tell on him when Tony rolls his eyes, preparing for touchdown. Their strategy for fighting Loki is more or less foolproof when he’s alone: two-pronged approach until either Hulk or Thor can get a hold of him, whoever gets there first. On Loki’s left is Thor, Bucky and Tony. To his right, Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Clint, with Hulk creeping toward the middle.

Loki looks at the two groups of Avengers closing in on him. His eyes narrow as he frowns. “Do you know,” he says slowly, “I rather think this is much too boring. These little tussles, these _fracas_ if you will, have gotten so boring, so predictable. Let’s make this more… entertaining, shall we?”

Tony doesn’t like the sound of that at all.

The sorcerer waves his hands just as Hulk decides to rush him, and Tony’s vision is filled with swirling green light. He engages all thrusters at maximum power, taking flight straight up into the blue sky.

It isn’t fast enough to escape.

Tony continues to fly up and and up and up into a hellish green void until up becomes down and he falls, the armor breaking away from him piece by piece.

He lands hard, his body taking the entire brunt of the fall. Surprisingly, nothing feels broken.

What feels like grass tickles his skin, but instead of itching it feels… distinctly different somehow, as if he can feel it interlocking with his skin on a cellular level. Which is definitely impossible and makes absolutely no sense, so Tony shoves that thought to a corner of his mind and focuses on the more immediately worrying thing: he’s wearing a boring blue outfit and a hat instead of the suit and he’s alone in the dark, save for one building shining like a beacon in the distance.

“Anyone else in a cold, friendless abyss or is it just me?” he wonders aloud.

Static crackles in his ear. “Well— cold nor an abyss—definitely friendless,” Thor replies.

Though there’s clearly some kind of connection issue, the sound fills him with immediate comfort as Tony’s hand flies up to his ear in disbelief, his fingers tapping against the device still resting snugly inside.“The comms survived? The comms survived! Where are you? Wait, hang on, my armor’s completely gone but the _comms_ survive? Are you kidding me?”

“Loki’s magic—mysterious—”

“Thor, not that I don’t believe you when you say your brother isn’t quite as bad as we think he is,” Tony starts, “it’s just… Well, no, I really think he’s that bad.”

“—letely fair,” Thor concedes, and Tony can easily picture the wistful smile that is no doubt on Thor’s face right now. “He makes—rrible choices—I think—not as bad—other tricks.”

His teeth grind against the desire to argue the point, but Tony lets it go, deciding that when this is all over, he gets to indulge in at least one “I told you so.” His therapist will be so proud of him doing his homework and practicing restraint. “Alright,” Tony says. “Who else’s not dead? Sound off.”

There’s silence for a few nerve-wracking seconds until he finally hears a soft huff and a familiar voice say, “‘m not dead.”

Tony releases the breath he held burning in his lungs, relief rushing high and floaty in its place. A smile tugs at his lips and Tony allows it, if only for a moment. There are others still missing, after all. He turns away from the infinite blackness behind him and walks toward the brightly lit building, hoping for something, anything inside it he can use. “Glad to hear it, Frosty. That leaves—”

“YOU TOOK HULK’S STUMP!”

The shout almost blows out Tony’s comm, which would be more concerning if Hulk wasn’t currently rampaging in the direction of the only building around here. “Hulk, what are you doing? And why are you wearing plaid?”

“HULK GONNA WRECK IT!”

Tony bites back a curse. “No, Hulk, stand down, don’t—!”

Glass shatters, bricks crumble, people are screaming. Hulk roars again, drowning out anything intelligible Thor, Bucky, or the civilians could be saying. Tony breaks into a run, desperately wishing he had his armor. Shit, this is bad. Worse, he doesn’t know where the rest of the Avengers are, or even if they’re here.

Tony opens his mouth to say as much, only what comes out isn’t anything like that at all. Instead, he jumps into a stop and his arm moves without his say-so, holding a golden hammer aloft as he proclaims, completely against his will, “I can fix it!”

Really, the moment is topped off when Bucky starts laughing.

_This isn’t funny!_ Tony shrieks in his mind as his body jumps from windowsill to windowsill, the action making a sound almost like…

As he bounces upward and strikes broken glass with his hammer—which magically repairs the glass somehow—Tony manages to glance to the side, and what he sees makes his stomach drop to his feet.

Bright, flashy neon flickers in front of his eyes, the garish colors highlighting the nightmare that is the giant child on the other side of a large window, no, a screen, Tony realizes as he jumps higher up the building.

Holy shit he’s in a video game. In an arcade cabinet.

Hulk, who is fully into his knock-off Donkey Kong role, roars above him and continues smashing, bricks raining down where Tony used to be. That gets Tony thinking. How many hits does it take for him to lose a life? Would he come back to life? What are the rules to this game, what’s the objective? Are there items? Power-ups?

“Yoohoo!” a tiny civilian calls, waving her kerchief over a freshly baked pie. It takes some maneuvering but the player gets Tony to the windowsill eventually, and as soon as he’s there he shoves the entire pie into his mouth and starts glowing different colors.

At least that answers the questions about power-ups.

He zips about the building faster than before, completely immune to the bricks and glass and eventually making it to the top of the building. Tony tries to ask Hulk what the hell is going on, except all the civilians come pouring out of the roof access and get under Hulk, tossing him off the building to the mud puddle below. Logically, Tony knows it would take more than that to kill Hulk, but still. That was horrible.

Tony goes through this over and over and over again, quarter alerts and pause screens and dying in the later levels more often than not. He’s damn near sobbing with relief when the arcade closes. Over the din he hears Hulk saying something, but, instead of properly processing it, Tony accepts a pie and a medal from the civilians, who are actually called Nicelanders as he’s come to find out, and flops onto his bed, deciding he’s allowed to take at least five minutes for himself.

The knocking on his door tells him he actually isn’t, and he’s dragged to an anniversary party against his will, where Pac-Man eats all of the margaritas. Asshole.

“Felix! You’re needed on the dance floor!” someone calls.

Tony’s yanked by the arm into the middle of the fray, everyone dancing around him in a synchronized dance that Tony can thankfully follow, when suddenly the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” he offers. “Bet it’s Mario, you know Italians. Always late.”

A short, round little man, Tony thinks his name is Big Gene, holds his hands up. “I’ll get it, Felix!”

Tony watches with fascination as Big Gene walks and hops with stilted motions. It’s strange in a nostalgic sort of way, everyone here looks as real as Tony does, yet they walk like old school video game characters. Makes sense, given the premise of the game he’s in.

The door opens to reveal Hulk grinning and waving for a second until it’s slammed in his face, the Nicelanders screaming in terror around him.

“He’ll wreck the party!”

“Hide the stemware!”

“Get rid of him, Felix!”

“Rude,” Tony mutters, half jogging to the door and nearly sagging with relief once he’s closed it behind him. He can’t help it, he launches himself at Hulk’s side and hugs him as best as he can. “Boy are you a sight for sore eyes.”

A big, green hand pats his head gently. Tony lets go, looking up at Hulk expectantly. The big guy smiles. “Hey, Tin Man! Hulk want to check on you, saw big explosion over building!”

“Big explosion? You mean the fireworks?”

“Fireworks?” Hulk repeats, sounding strangely incredulous. “Someone’s birthday?”

“I think it’s an anniversary party for this game, actually, but seriously, what is going on?”

“What, that’s today?” Hulk cries. He even swings his arms out, playing it up and nearly hitting Tony in the process.

“Hey! I’m being serious here, you’re making me be serious and I don’t appreciate it!”

Hulk pauses his overacting to stare Tony. “Tin Man never see _Wreck-It Ralph_? Disney movie, it’s Hulk’s favorite!”

“No? What kind of Disney movie—”

A bored-looking turtle suddenly comes out the door. “Just a head’s up, Felix, they’re bringing out the cake in a few shakes.”

“HEY GLEN!”

“Ralph.” The door slams shut again, effectively ending that awkward interruption. Tony wants to know how a turtle can express that much disdain with one word. 

Eh, it’s unimportant. At least Hulk seems to know what’s going on, it’s more than he’s got, at any rate. “Are you saying we’re in a kid’s movie?”

“ENOUGH TALK, HULK WANT CAKE.”

Tony gets shoved through the door in Hulk’s hurry to get cake, a piece of ceiling dropping on him as a result. Thankfully he’s used to the death animation by now. Sort of. The idea of dying and coming back to life being part of business as usual freaks him out more than he’ll ever admit.

He’s too late to stop Hulk from arguing with Big Gene. Frankly, he’s not surprised the cake ends up smashed, though the way the splatters spread out in pixelated bunches is interesting.

“Hulk gonna win a medal!” he roars, shaking his fist at the Nicelanders. “Shiniest medal! Better than Tin Man’s! Make Tin Man’s medals wet their pants!”

Tony blinks, a somewhat hysterical giggle escaping him. “Geez, is that what you’re arguing about? Hulk, I’ll give you one of my medals, I’ve got a bunch of them—”

“AND GOOD NIGHT, THANK YOU FOR THE PARTY.”

Tony tries to run after him, but Hulk’s too fast and the Nicelanders are blocking him, spouting even more rude comments and shoving pie at him while the room resets around them, the cake splatter disappearing and the ceiling repairing itself as if nothing had happened.

He gets back to the floor the Nicelanders had taken him to before the party. It’s not as nice as his penthouse back home, but it’s nice enough, and more importantly the Nicelanders seem to be going to sleep, if that is a thing they do. Whatever the case, Tony sits on the edge of the bed, determined to make the most of the time he has alone. “Okay, Hulk, explain right now. What did you mean we’re in a movie?”

Bucky huffs on the other end of the comm. “Coulda sworn we were in one of Barton’s stupid video games.”

Tony perks up at the information. Clint liked a wide variety of games, but any data is good data right now. “What kind of game are you in?”

“The kind with a lot of shooting, unfortunately,” Bucky says. “Damn bugs are dangerous as hell, and I don’t think I gotta explain how watching someone die and come back to life is a bit traumatic.”

Grimacing, Tony taps his chest, nodding to no one. “Yeah, been there, done that, not eager for it to happen again.”

“Won’t happen again,” Hulk says confidently. “Hulk going to Soldier’s game to get medal now. Tin Man stay put ‘til game out of order.”

Well, that’s not ominous. “That’s not gonna kill me or these other people, is it?”

There’s a burst of static, then “—course not.” Oh, fantastic, there’s Thor. “The game—still run—won’t be—til the morrow.”

Tony pumps his fist in the air. Finally, some good news. “Glad to hear it, Point Break. Have you figured out what’s wrong with your comms?”

“My game—not coopera—ith—”

“Sugar bad for comms,” Hulk clarifies.

“And that’s… one of the rules of this movie.”

“—not seen— _ck-It Ralph_?—quite good.”

Tony drops his head to his chest. This is it, this is what he gets for throwing references around all the time. It’s only fair.

“I haven’t seen it, either,” Bucky points out. “So any help would be really appreciated, fellas.”

“—tainly! All you need do is—oh no—spotted—the king—tell you—no longer in pursuit!”

Hulk’s very put-upon sigh comes through loud and clear over the blaring alarm in the background of wherever he is. “Tin Man wait for orange friend, then go to Soldier’s game!”

Bucky groans. “Damn quarter alert. Get in formation, Hulk, you’re blocking the first-person shooter.”

Quarter alert? That can’t be right, the arcade closed about fifteen minutes ago. Tony looks out his window, slumping when he sees both natural light and kids pouring into the arcade. “Time is fake,” he grouses.

Reluctantly Tony gets up to head out of the building. Hurry up and wait, his least favorite kind of instructions. It’s not as long of a wait as he’s afraid it would be, if he’s honest. A pre-teen girl eventually wanders over to his arcade cabinet, inserts her quarter, and frowns when Hulk doesn’t show up.

“Where’s the wrecking guy?” she asks.

Tony wishes he knew. His standard reply of “I can fix it!” does not reassure her, or him, for that matter.

“Where’s Ralph?” one of the Nicelanders whispers.

“Great question, I’ll go find him!” Tony says out of the corner of his mouth, because apparently now he can talk out of character. And move, as it turns out. He escapes to the edge of the screen and runs around the side of the building. Huh, how had he not noticed the little train track before?

Before he can dwell further on where it could go, an orange cast tinges the light, and Tony turns, reading the backward text. “Oh, thank god.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re… out of order!”

“Without Ralph, we’re doomed!”

“They’re gonna pull our plug!”

Ah, there’s the screaming. Something comforting would probably be appropriate right now, but “Calm down, everything’s gonna be fine” tends to come off patronizing.

The sound of a cart pulling in on the train tracks distracts all of them, and for a second, just like the Nicelanders, he stupidly hopes Hulk’s crouched down in there somewhere.

Tony jumps up on the platform, stepping back when a familiar neon orange ball jumps out at him. He recognizes him immediately. “Q*bert! You must be the little orange friend!”

“;&?@#” Q*bert replies.

“What’s he saying, Felix?” Big Gene demands.

“How should I know, it’s not like I can speak Q*bert,” he snaps back.

“!#?&;”

Tony squints at the speech bubble. “Why can I sort of understand that.”

“%!&?÷₤”

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Tony takes a deep breath. “Worst episode of Lassie ever,” he huffs. “One more time, little guy.”

“💣☠🗲”

The meaning becomes clearer this time, which frustrates him even more. Too many questions and only one or two answers so far, and rolling with it is the only option Tony has. “‘Ralph’s gone Turbo?’ What does that even mean?”

Something really bad, as it turns out, since the Nicelanders are too busy screaming and panicking again to answer him. Tony takes that as his cue and hops on the train car with Q*bert, zipping through a tunnel that looks like wiring and coming out of a socket on the other end. There are similar sockets lined up on either side, he assumes leading to the different games plugged in. Is this supposed to be a power strip?

He gives the area a quick once-over. Game Central Station, ha. That’s kind of clever. Tony follows Q*bert as he waddles ahead, his eyes catching on familiar characters he remembers from games he played with Rhodey back when they were at MIT.

Alright, he kinda gets the idea behind this movie. Maybe, when this is all over, he’ll give it a watch. Maybe.

Q*bert stops in front of a game called Hero’s Duty and swings his snout in that direction. “Thanks, little buddy,” Tony says. He dashes into the socket and gets in the train car waiting there. At least the ride will be fairly quick. “Hang on Bucky, Hulk, I’m coming.”

“Oh, thank god,” Bucky says. “I could use a friendlier face.”

There’s a smile on his face as he replies with “You and me both.” When the train pulls to a stop, Tony jumps out a fair distance. It’s actually a pretty decent form of travel despite the annoying sound it makes. The efficiency’s worth it. He jumps down the metal hallway, the jumping sound echoing ominously in time with the pulsing of the red lights posted every few yards.

“Dammit, stand down!” Bucky barks. “Tony, if that’s you, get ready to dodge!”

“What do you mean, ‘dodge,’ I think I’m at the entrance to the first level, relax, it can’t be that bad,” Tony says. He stops hopping when he can see a green sky and a tower. “Where are you, anyway?”

“Take this!” a soldier yells, and opens fire.

Instinctively he jumps out of the way, somehow dodging every shot fired by that soldier and a few of his friends.

A shot louder than the rest cracks through the air and snaps the soldiers out of their defensive positions. “I said stand down!” Bucky snaps. His blue-grey eyes look wild, the set of his jaw grim, relaxing only when he finally sees Tony. As the soldiers holster their weapons and move out of the way, Bucky gives him a once-over. “Well, that’s… a look.”

“Excuse you, I make this work,” Tony shoots back, doing his best catwalk saunter down the ramp. He wishes he could make fun of Bucky’s outfit in turn, except Bucky looks like a badass edgy Samus Aran, something Tony mentally files away to revisit later. He coughs and looks around. “So, where’s Hulk?”

Snorting, Bucky jerks his head back and to the left, turning with the motion. “Can’t miss him, he’s right… oh no.”

“You lost him?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Hulk get medal! Time for fun part!”

“Dammit, Hulk, stop messing around! We need to find a way out of here!”

“Follow Hulk, then!”

“Where?” doesn’t even make it past his lips. Time slows down as an aircraft flies past Tony and Bucky, giving them a perfect view of Hulk and some kind of bug creature crammed inside.

“Shit,” Tony curses. He grabs Bucky’s arm and pulls. “You heard him, come on!”

“You, destroy those Cy-Bugs, they do not leave this game. Kohut, you’re with us, watch our six,” Bucky says. “Nothing gets past you, got it?”

The soldiers do as they’re told without question, some of them dying and respawning instantly in another part of the level. The one Bucky called Kohut joins them as they run down the metal hallway.

“Tony,” Bucky says, voice soft and very serious, “one of those things was on the shuttle with Hulk. We need to destroy it before it gets impossible.”

They get on the cart, the ride back to Game Central Station even faster now. “It was a little bug, I think Hulk can handle it.”

Kohut huffs a laugh, and Bucky nods his head. “Oh, trust me,” Bucky mutters darkly. He vaults over the side of the train car as it stops, murder strut in full swing. “It won’t be little for long. Cy-Bugs grows fast, then it’ll lay eggs and eat anything and everything in sight, and they become what they eat, consuming until there’s nothing left just like—”

“—like a virus,” Tony finishes. What idiot would code something like that? First Loki, then his game potentially getting shut down, and now, assuming this universe is real, potentially them and everyone else dying.

It’s a typical Saturday morning for the Avengers.

“Yep,” Bucky says. “I’ve got a scanner, so we can track it. Unless you manage to kill every single one, the whole group won’t stop for nothing less than a beacon, vaporizes them on contact like your repulsors.”

“Destroy the bug as soon as possible before it multiplies, got it.”

“Without dying, ‘cause we can’t come back outside our own respective games.”

Tony comes to an abrupt halt. “What? How do you know that?”

That’s when he hears it: a PSA from the blue hedgehog himself. “If you leave your game, stay safe, stay alert, and whatever you do, don’t die! If you die outside your own game, you don’t regenerate, ever! Game over!”

“You know,” Tony says. “Just once, I’d like my questions not to be answered with comedic timing.”

“Don’t think we can escape that,” Bucky says, his mouth twitching. “We’re in a kid’s movie, after all. I just hope Steve and the others are okay.”

Barely managing to hide his wince, Tony claps Bucky on the shoulder. “Buck up, Frosty, they either didn’t get hit or they’re at least not in this place. Win-win for us and them, really.”

It’s enough to get him a half-smile from Bucky. “I appreciate the attempt, but I’m still gonna worry.”

“It’s not her fault,” Kohut starts. “She’s programmed with the most tragic backstory ever.”

Tony nearly responds with “no shit.” He barely manages to rein it in. “She?” he asks instead.

“My character’s a woman,” Bucky replies.

“Diversity, nice.”

The scene changes around them where they stand as Kohut continues, almost like being in front of an IMAX screen. They watch Bucky’s character, Calhoun, go through her whirlwind romance that ultimately ends in a gruesome tragedy on her wedding day. It’s a lot to take in, and the fact that it’s in an animated movie meant for kids really underlines the horror of it.

“Kohut, my cruiser,” Bucky says, finally breaking the silence. The soldier tosses it to Bucky like it weighs nothing and posts up outside the entrance to Sugar Rush. “C’mon, Tony, let’s get through this movie so we can take care of Loki.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Bucky flings the cruiser like a frisbee, the thing unfolding in midair. Tony jumps up behind him, and they go flying through the tunnel toward obnoxiously bright colors and catchy Japanese pop music.

They zip through the shimmering, iridescent portal into a bright, cheerfully bubblegum pink landscape. The scope of it is larger than his or Bucky’s game to accommodate the winding race tracks, but luckily there’s only one area with a Hulk-sized path of destruction going through it. Bucky tilts the cruiser toward the candy cane forest, and if the soldier asks him why he’s clinging so hard, Tony will say he was hanging on for dear life. The dive downward is at least smooth. 

As soon as they hop off, the cruiser folds back into its original shape, hovering over the ground. It isn’t too much of a walk, more a matter of picking their way around the uneven ground and the fallen candy cane tree trunks and branches. The shuttle sits just over a small hill, and Tony whistles when he sees the damage. 

“Hulk can’t do anything small, can he,” Bucky murmurs thoughtfully.

There’s melted cotton candy everywhere, making the both of them cover their noses at the burnt sugar smell. “Too bad this thing is fried. Not much I can do in the way of repairs. Depending on what isn’t caramelized, I could put something together,” he muses, tapping his chest as the ideas form in his mind’s eye.

“Before you do that, we better find that damn Cy-Bug. Just one will lay hundreds of eggs when left unchecked.”

Tony shivers, swallowing against the urge to gag. Gross. “Deferring to your judgement on that one, yep. Let’s hope that scanner of yours works.”

Bucky studies it for a moment, showing the screen to Tony. “Gives us a direction, at least. Something’s interfering with the radar, but I think we can make it through.”

Tony picks his way over the sugary path, the crystals crunching beneath their boots in a somewhat satisfying sound as they walk. “You know,” he says, twirling the golden hammer between his fingers. “This whole experience is almost enough to make me regret not letting Barton pick the movies.”

Bucky snorts and lightly shoves Tony’s shoulder. The little bit of contact warms him from the inside out. “You take that back, Barton has the worst taste in the world. This movie is too grown-up for him by far.”

He opens his mouth to defend Clint a little, but the last time Clint got to choose what they watched for their movie nights, it had been a slew of animated direct-to-video sequels, and not even the so-bad-they’re-good kind. “Nope, you’re right,” Tony agrees. “So what should we be looking for, exactly? Slime trail, gross nest?”

“No,” Hulk says. “Turbo.”

Tony glances sidelong at Bucky, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. “Hey, Big Green, why haven’t you or Thor checked in lately?”

“Sugar—ember?” Hulk replies. “Mess—ith—tricity.”

Thus far, Tony’s been accepting what he can glean from these interrupted transmissions with a grain of salt, but this is so clearly Bruce Banner trying to help Tony out with a bit of logic. Sugar. Electricity. Of course, Tony realizes. It’s so obvious. This isn’t magic, it’s _science_. Sugar is a nonconductor, so the comms are trying to communicate in a bad environment. That is… so advanced for this kind of movie. He’s actually impressed with the creators for paying attention to such a small detail. Doesn’t make it any less frustrating to live through, but Tony can appreciate genius when he sees it.

“—so, avoiding arrest!” Thor says brightly. “Then I was—bullied—tiny candy people—worry not—have—essfully infiltrated—candy factory—build a most magnificent—kart.”

Tony and Bucky come to a stop at the same time. “Wow, I have no words for that. Do you?”

“Not a one,” Bucky admits. “I’m sure it makes sense in context.”

“I bet it does,” he agrees. “So, ‘Turbo’ again, huh. Who or what the hell is Turbo? I remember Q*Bert saying something about ‘going Turbo,’ don’t suppose that’s related?”

“—rbo puny—HULK—ASH!”

“—eep walking—get answers—go to castle---cuse us, we need to finish—ini-game. I—race—win!”

“What? No, Thor, Hulk, come on!” Tony begs. “We need more information than that!”

Bucky sighs and resumes walking. “Ever get the feeling they’re having too much fun with this?”

“Since the moment we got here.” He jogs briefly to catch up, resenting Bucky a little for how adaptable he is, like things that are on this level of absurd might as well happen.

They’re walking in the brightly lit candy-cane forest until they aren’t. It’s a lot like the flashback that featured Bucky’s character’s backstory earlier. Turbo’s story plays out in front of them, a cautionary tale of pride and jealousy almost too ridiculous to take seriously. Then again, they’re currently hunting down a villain commonly known as the god of mischief, so probably not that ridiculous all things considered.

Tony squints as the candy-themed world comes into once more, blinking furiously as his eyes adjust. Somehow, they are further along in the forest than before. Bucky’s scanner still shows them heading in the right direction, so Tony doesn’t bother to question it.

The cheerful pink path disappears ahead of them into a pit. Sprawling twists of purple and yellow candy cane trees have grown wild here in contrast to the almost birch-like red and white trees. Their branches are thick enough to act as a bridge across the pit. Tony taps the base of the closest branch to him. “Feels solid enough. After you?”

Bucky looks between Tony and the branch before gesturing for Tony to go ahead. “I’d feel better at your six, if I’m honest,” he says at last. “Of the two of us, I’m the only one with a gun, and those Cy-Bugs are no joke.”

“Why Snowflake, I didn’t know you cared.” Tony bats his eyelashes and touches his hand to his chest for the full effect, a grin winning out over the coy smile when he sees Bucky’s eyes crease at the edges with amusement. The grin breaks into a full-on laugh as Bucky bows, sweeping his gun toward the branch with an “after you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony snickers, puts a little sway in his step for fun. “You know, if it wasn’t for all the imminent danger, taking a walk like this back home would be really nice. I mean, we kind of live our lives around imminent danger, but it’s nice to dream.”

That gets a laugh out of Bucky. Tony twists so he can walk and look at Bucky the same time, except the ground disappears beneath their feet and they’re falling into the pit. The good news is the pit isn’t as shallow as Tony thought.

The bad news is they’re sinking.

“There’s gotta be a rope or something,” Bucky says, panic coloring his voice. He struggles, then abruptly stops in his movement and squints at something behind Tony. “What the hell is NesQuik Sand?”

“An unwelcome pun, at the moment,” Tony replies, absently, still looking for a way out. The only thing he’s coming up with is the vines, but they’re too high up to be of any use. “It’s chocolate milk powder,” he clarifies when Bucky raises his eyebrows.

Hulk and Thor’s chuckles come in loud and clear over the comms.

“Laugh it up, by all means. We’ll keep sinking in the meantime, if that’s alright with you.”

“Worry too much.”

“—st make—vines laugh,” Thor suggests.

“Laffy taffy,” Hulk adds sagely, the act dropped immediately so they can laugh more.

Tony groans. “Haha, we get it, food puns.”

“Being serious!” Hulk protests.

“—true, the vines—lower—you when—aughing. Give—try, they’re fun—ecially when—donuts aren’t—throw you in jail.”

_It makes sense in context_ runs through Tony’s mind, heavily laden with sarcasm.

“Okay, make ‘em laugh. Make ‘em laugh, make ‘em laugh,” Tony sings under his breath, trying to think of a joke. “Don’t you know everyone wants to laugh.” Dammit, he doesn’t have a steady roster of jokes, his brand of humor tends to appear when opportunity presents itself. And now he has that scene from Singing in the Rain stuck in his head.

“Kinda hard to come up with jokes on the spot like this,” Bucky says. “Can’t come up with anything other than the chicken crossing the road.”

“What, really?” Tony shoves at Bucky’s shoulder lightly. “Come on, you’re funny as hell.”

“Can say the same about you,” he returns easily enough, shoving back at Tony.

The quicksand must have made Bucky misjudge his strength, Tony thinks while he flails wildly in an attempt to get his balance back.

“Dammit, sorry Tony, I gotcha.”

Unyielding metal grips his wrist and yanks him right into Bucky’s chest, his nose exploding in world of white hot pain. Groaning, Tony leans back, hands covering his face as Bucky apologizes even more, which kind of makes it worse? Especially with the shrill children’s laughter all around them.

Tony nearly gives himself whiplash as he tips his head up, ignoring the taste of copper sliding down his throat. “Bucky, look! They’re laughing, they’re coming down! Physical comedy counts!”

“Tony, your damn nose is probably broken!”

“—can fix it!” Thor and Hulk chorus.

“Shut up!” Bucky and Tony snap.

He rips the hammer from his belt, the stupid thing glimmering in the light. “Might as well,” he says under his breath, and he smacks himself in the face.

The obnoxious chime sounds, the pain receding instantly. Tony’s a little bit mad it worked. Whatever, results are results. “There, proof I’ll be okay,” Tony says. “C’mon, see if a good old-fashioned slap will do it.”

Bucky hesitates, then lightly slaps Tony’s cheek. The vines whine their disappointment and retreat.

Spreading his arms wide, Tony grins at Bucky. “See, not funny enough. Do it harder.” He waits a beat. “Oh come on, that was funny!”

“Kid’s. Movie,” Bucky says.

Tony scoffs. “So violence is acceptable, but not innuendo between adults? That’s stupid, and I distinctly remember innuendo in other animated movies. For sure in _Aladdin_ and _Little Mermaid_. Probably _Beauty and the Beast_ , too, and anyway, I’ve obviously given you permission so just hit me already—Ow!” His cheek puffs up comically from the force of Bucky’s slap.

“Sorry,” Bucky says, sounding not sorry at all. The cheeky smirk doesn’t help Bucky’s case either. “Timing is everything.”

At least the vines are laughing and coming closer. Tony rolls his eyes and taps his cheek with the hammer. “Yeah, yeah, good teamwork. Again!”

Bucky smacks him, part of Tony’s face swells, he hits it with a hammer. They even get into a rhythm. The vines lower themselves more and more when at last, one is within grabbing distance.

Quickly, Tony snags the vine and wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist. They surge upward, the quick rush almost as good as the kind he got from taking off in the suit. It’s over far too quickly for his liking. Tony gently lets go of Bucky once the single-striped candy cane is beneath his feet. He looks at—oh, down at Bucky, that’s new—and meets Bucky’s smile with his own. Bucky looks… a bit awed, kind of like he had when he’d come down to Tony’s workshop for the first time, and is it his imagination or are they both leaning in closer?

Unfortunately, the moment is ruined when they both register the taffy singing and forming cutesy heart shapes. There’s barely time to be embarrassed though, with Bucky growling and firing off a few shots into the air, the taffy scattering immediately. Tony wishes he still had his gauntlets, that looked like it felt satisfying.

He glances around, seeing a familiar path of broken trees. Pressure begins its slow squeeze around his head and neck, and Tony’s fingers automatically reach up to rub circles on his temples. “Did that flashback seriously lead us in a circle?” he asks after getting his jaw to unclench.

“Looks like it,” Bucky says, sounding equally annoyed. “Even better, the scanner’s on the fritz. We’ll have to try the shuttle.”

Stupid nonconductive sugar particles. “Why can’t we use the cruiser?” Tony grumbles, skip-walking to catch up with Bucky’s stride.

“Bit easier to look for the Cy-Bug without fighting the wind, don’t you think?”

“Well sure, but fixing this mess is gonna set us back a good while, and we need to catch up with Thor and Hulk.”

“And the shuttle will be faster than the cruiser, and don’t think I don’t know you’re arguing so you can buy time to figure this out.”

Busted. Tony grins sheepishly. “Am I that transparent?” he asks innocently. “Don’t answer that. Help me pry this panel off, I might be able to use something in here.” Tony kneels down and hooks his hands into the grips, waiting for Bucky. “Hello? I’m pretty sure I asked for help.”

“Or…” Bucky trails off thoughtfully.

“Or what?” Tony demands. “Come on, any idea is a good idea at this point, I’m all ears, Buckaroo.”

Bucky coughs and glances down at Tony’s waist. A million innuendos come to mind immediately, but he bites them back instead to scowl. He knows what Bucky’s looking at. “No.”

“It worked on your face, didn’t it,” Bucky reasons. “I know how you feel about magic, but Occam’s razor seems to apply here, just gotta follow this place’s logic instead of ours.”

“It’s also possible that it only worked on me because we’re from the same game,” Tony points out. “Much as I’m loathe to admit it, I get that it’s a magic hammer, but come on, with sophisticated tech like this, there’s delicate work involved! You can’t expect me to believe that just a single tap from this thing—” he grabs the hammer and strikes it against the hull, continuing his tirade over the cheerful tone and bright lights “—is going to. Fix it. Seriously?”

Tony hears a small, undignified noise come from behind and he whirls on Bucky. The soldier’s face reddens as he presses his hand to his mouth. “I shouldn’t laugh, I’m sorry,” he says, tone apologetic between the chuckles.

He glares as hard as he can, trying to look put upon. It doesn’t work with Bucky laughing like that, but Tony at least tries.“No, please, by all means, get it all out.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, I’m good, I promise.” His mouth twitches, and Tony knows Bucky’s not quite done with the teasing yet. “Thank goodness I had you, Fix-It Felix. My hero.”

“Ha, ha.” Tony climbs into the hovercraft and absolutely doesn’t pout.

“Should I make you a pie as a thank you?” Bucky asks as he settles into the seat next to Tony.

“You know what? Yes, yes you should.” They go through the pre-flight check, then Bucky flips the huge “ON” switch between them, and the engine rumbles to life.

“For the record,” Bucky says casually, pulling the throttle toward him as they lift upwards, “I know you could’ve fixed it without magic. Or at least figured something out. I trust in you and your smarts more than some magical doodad. That was probably more of a loophole in logic than anything else.”

“Damn right it was,” he mumbles. “Stupid hammer takes all the fun out of figuring out the problem and creating a solution in what looks like an impossible situation, hell, I could have engineered at least ten different ways to get out—” Tony stops, his brain finally catching up to what Bucky said. He glances at Bucky, who’s not looking at him, but neither is he deflecting or taking back any of the sincerity in the statement, like Tony would do.

It seems like a small thing, like an obvious thing, for Bucky to trust him, but for the life of him Tony doesn’t know why it feels like a huge revelation, like it means… more. He feels warm, even a bit lighter inside.

“You uh.” Bucky clears his throat, then swirls his fingers in a wide circle around his own face. “Your face is still kinda red, you might need to hit yourself again.”

And just like that, Tony freezes, his mind struggling to come up with an excuse. “What? Oh, no. It’s getting hot in here, that’s all.”

Bucky’s eyebrow indicates he does not believe that load of bullshit at all, so Tony crosses his arms and stares ahead, his thoughts loudly cycling between yelling at himself for saying something phenomenally stupid and lyrics from that old Nelly song. He even hums a few bars before smacking himself with the hammer.

Hulk’s laugh crackles in his earpiece.

“Anyway,” Tony says, cutting off the mockery before it can start. “We’re nearly at the castle. What’s next, big guy? Blow it to kingdom come, Thor wins a race, game over?” When the quiet lasts too long, Tony asks, “Hulk? Hulk, can you hear me? I said—”

The words are barely intelligible, more like a reluctant mumble, and suddenly Tony would give anything for the uncomfortable awkwardness from a second ago.

“Tin—trigger Soldier.”

There’s a sudden shrill squeaking sound to his left followed by a sharp jerk of the plane. Tony glances out of the corner of his eye to see Bucky has crushed the handles flat in his grip, his face pale and eyes wide. “This is supposed to be a kid’s movie?” Bucky says, voice tight.

Tony swallows hard against the way his stomach immediately rebels. The idea of triggering Bucky in any way makes his whole body feel wrong, as if he can reject the fact it had ever been said right out of existence if he clenched his fists hard enough. He turns in his seat to face Bucky, hands up and fingers spread wide where Bucky can see them. “‘Yeah, no, I’m not gonna do that. Bucky, do you hear me, I would never---”

“Christ alive, Tony,” Bucky grinds out, jabbing at buttons with more force than necessary. “I know that. Don’t really need you to at this point. Must be that point in the movie for another flashback.” Chancing another look makes him think Bucky’s going to keep talking, but all the soldier does is suck in a sharp breath and continue with the landing process.

Tony’s not sure if he’s glad or not that he doesn’t get to see what Bucky sees this time.

“—accident in—movie,” Hulk says, his voice small. Small for him, at least.

“Hulk,” Tony says. “We’re not the characters in this movie. We don’t have to do everything by the script.”

“Say that again,” Thor says suddenly.

Tony blinks. “We don’t have to do everything by the script?” Then it hits him. “Because it’s predictable. Oh, that sneaky little shit.”

The comms vibrate in his ears with the force of Hulk’s growl. “SMASH PUNY GOD.”

Thor laughs, delighted. “We’ll do better—beat him—own game!”

“Whatever your plan is,” Bucky says hoarsely, fists balled up, resting on his thighs. “I’m all ears. I definitely want out of this universe.”

“Right. Simplest solution, guys, you’ll probably have to repeat it a few times. What needs to happen to fix everything?”

The back and forth on hashing out the plan takes longer than Tony likes. Boiled down to basics, all of them—except for Thor, who’s going to try to pin down Loki during the race because, shocker, Loki has been masquerading as King Candy the whole time—are going to gather at Diet Cola Mountain to wait for the Cy-bugs because, also shocker, the one Hulk brought with him is a proud parent of maybe a thousand eggs.

No pressure.

His foot bounces up and down, the side of his knee brushing against the side of the shuttle’s interior. There’s got to be something more he can do. He’s not useless without the armor, but it’s feeling that way at the moment and he hates it. Tony grabs the hammer out of his belt and spins the handle in his hand, tapping his knee as it bounces up, As his eyes drift over the console while Bucky fiddles with the controls, Tony finds the answer to his problem. How had he not seen these before?

“Buckybear, I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me!”

“Gonna have to be more specific there, Tony,” he replies, curiosity coloring his voice.

“This shuttle has guns.”

“Well, yeah, ‘course it does. That’s the idea of aerial support.”

“Yes, exactly! I’m gonna need your help when we land, I’ve got an idea.”

The coke bottle-shaped mountain comes into sight, Hulk in his bright orange get-up at the top, waving his hands like the world’s silliest wing walker. Bucky puts on a burst of speed, which Tony is thankful for. He’ll need all the extra time he can get if this idea doesn’t work.

As soon as they touch down in what is clearly an arena for boss battles, Tony flings himself out of the shuttle, instructing Bucky and Hulk to remove the guns as fast they can with as little damage as possible.

He reaches into his toolbelt and finds the basics: pliers, screwdriver, utility knife. It’s simple enough work to disassemble the guns in front of him, and with the plans for the originals forever etched into his memory, Tony rigs his creation in record time. All it needs is one last tap.

Sucking in a breath, Tony breathes it out slowly. “This better work.”

He strikes the makeshift arm cannons with the golden hammer, a whoop of joy escaping him as they form exactly as he planned them to be. As he slips his arms inside, Tony stands and lifts them, pleased at how light they are, how much stronger he feels now.

“That,” Bucky says, a wide smile stretching his face, “is amazing.”

“But is it enough?” a familiar voice sneers.

The ground shakes as Loki lands, and Tony has a few more second thoughts about this plan. For starters, Loki is a huge candy-themed Cy-bug hybrid with a face that keeps glitching out to other cartoonish faces, including Turbo’s from earlier. Oh good, that’s not gonna feature in his nightmares at all.

“Did you really think that was going to work, that I wouldn’t notice you going off script?” Loki demands. “Thor is barely a better actor than the monster!”

“We were hoping it would, yeah,” Tony replies, slowly edging to the right as Bucky goes left. “So, just curious, have you actually seen this movie?”

Loki scoffs, his face cycling between his own, Turbo’s, and King Candy’s, those gross legs tapping and weird tail twitching. “What do you take me for, Stark? Of course I have.”

God dammit. Mental note: catch up on pop culture. At this rate even Steve will leave him in the dust, and he’ll be damned if he falls behind.

Tony levels the cannons at Loki, the charge whining with deadly intent. “I thought that was the whole point of this, that we were predictable.”

“Certainly. I thought a change of scenery was all that was needed. Besides, what fun is any game if it’s not rigged in my favor, I ask you?”

“Oh my god, you are that kid on the playground,” Bucky says.

Tony bites down hard on his cheek. Laughing isn’t going to help their case, and a talkative Loki is a distracted Loki.

“HULK SMASH.”

Or Hulk can launch himself full tilt at Loki’s face, that’ll work too. Tony aims for the legs and the wings, unloading every last bit of energy he can draw from the cannons before they overheat. Bucky takes over while Tony retreats, picking his shots carefully since his gun packs more power per shot.

He checks his power cells. Enough for another volley, so long as Hulk keeps doing what he does best.

Circling around in a wide berth, constantly moving, Tony focuses his fire more carefully, successfully relieving Loki of two legs on his right side.

Turning to survey the damage, Loki snarls and flings Hulk in Bucky’s direction, rearing up on (most of) his back legs and charging at Tony. The damn cannons have no charge left, all he’s got at his disposal is the magic hammer.

Bucky calls out his name, a desperate yell reaching him through the pounding of his ears. Tony allows himself a moment to feel regret for never saying anything to Bucky, to gather courage for what he’s about to do. As long as the rest of them make it out of this, that’s all that matters.

Tony backs up to the edge of the arena, waits for Loki’s claws to come down, and strikes.

The chime sounds. Tony’s still alive. He’s afraid to open his eyes and see what horror he accidentally improved.

Slowly, he peels one eye open. Both eyes open. “Holy shit,” he breathes, a hysterical giggle coloring the end of his words. “I take back every bad thing I ever said about magic hammers.”

In front of him sits a dumbfounded Loki and a Cy-bug egg, the latter immediately vaporizing with a shot from Bucky.

Loki swallows, visibly paling when he hears Hulk’s thundering steps behind him. He’s not fast enough to escape the giant green hand closing around his ankle, and Hulk swings him over his head, roaring his victory each time Loki is slammed into the ground, the mentos quaking and shifting downward more and more with each hit.

Meanwhile, Bucky runs to Tony’s side, gathering him in a tight embrace. “You _idiot_ ,” he rasps. “What if that hadn’t worked?”

Tony winds his arms around Bucky’s middle, lets himself sag into the hug. “Some risks are worth taking,” he says, his voice fairly level. He presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek to prove his point.

Anxiety starts to churn in his gut when Bucky goes very still. Tony even opens his mouth to apologize.

Instead, Bucky hauls him by the collar into the kiss of his life. It’s perfect, everything Tony has ever dreamed of—

“Put me down, you brute!” Loki shrieks.

“HULK BAD, AND THAT’S GOOD!” _SLAM!_ “HULK WILL NEVER BE GOOD AND THAT’S NOT BAD!” _SLAM SLAM!_ “NO ONE HULK RATHER BE THAN HULK!”

“Damn, did I miss the fight?”

“Thor, help me!”

—maybe not everything.

Eventually Thor gets Hulk to calm down enough that Loki can return them back to Manhattan, in their original clothes, mind, though Tony is definitely going to look into building a suit for Bucky for perfectly normal reasons. To his great relief the rest of the Avengers are waiting right where they left them, mag-cuffs at the ready. Thor hauls Loki off to seek justice for his crimes, Tony gets to be a big damn hero, and he gets the guy.

Tony’s not sure what Loki was on about. Predictability’s not all that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> and yes, in case you're wondering, nesquik was brought to market in 1948 and therefore not something bucky would have reason to know about. also yes, tony and bucky do eventually watch the movie. they concede everything does in fact make sense in context.
> 
> happy holidays, everyone!


End file.
